When It Rains
by TigreLily
Summary: Fault post-ep. Elliot isn't happy about Olivia's departure. Songfic to Paramore's "When it Rains". First fic! Rated for language.
1. When It Rains

_When it rains on this side of town it touches_

_Everything_

_God damn you, Liv._ Elliot Stabler's hands were shaking with a mixture of anger and exhaustion. It'd been two days since he'd last seen her. Two weeks since the Gitano debacle and the fight that followed it. Elliot rubbed his hands over his face. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Olivia's agonized features and heard her pained fury.

_"You son-of-a-bitch, you know that's not true!"_

But Elliot hadn't listened, hadn't heeded. So he'd driven her away to computer crimes, where at least he saw her at the 1-6. Now Olivia had vanished again, to only God knows where. She'd left him snarling and angry, snapping everyone in range.

_Say it again and mean it_

_We don't miss a thing_

_You made yourself a bed_

_At the bottom of the blackest hole_

_Convinced yourself that it's not the reason_

_You don't see the sun anymore_

"_It's just too complicated."_ Bullshit. Liv was his and he was hers and that was all there was to it. And she would so kick his ass if he ever told her that. Damn it, was a note too much to ask? It'd be so much easier to pretend indifference if he knew where she was.

_Oh oh how could you do it?_

_Oh I – I never saw it coming_

_Oh oh I need an ending_

_So why can't you stay _

_long enough to explain_

The first day he couldn't reach her, Elliot chalked it up to PMS. That night, he had horrendous nightmares. In the Bramble, Richard White was laughing as he slit her throat with a thorny rose. On a subway car, Liv was slammed up against a door with that asshole reporter behind her and …_oh Jesus, the reporter isn't playing anymore and he's on the other side of the glass all he can do is watch…_ Now she was lying in a crumpled heap at the body farm, feebly stirring even as she started to decompose…Eric Plummer watching with mute satisfaction. Her body bouncing as it hit the station floor, blood gushing from her throat as Gitano raised the knife for another blow…_nonononoNO!_

He bolted upright with Olivia's name on his lips and her screams in his ears. Seconds later he was hunched over his toilet, gasping, the taste of bile strong in his mouth. _Never, _he vowed as he brushed his teeth. Plummer and Gitano were dead. The reporter incident had been minor rumor mill fodder. Richard White was the only real threat, and he was still in jail. With those comforting thoughts, Elliot tried to sleep. His troubled mind dredged up the details of his worst cases, substituting Olivia's features for the vic's. Elliot had never been so happy to see the dawn.

_And when it rains_

_You always find an escape_

_Just running away _

_From all of the ones_

_Who love you_

_From everything_

_You made yourself a bed_

_At the bottom of the blackest hole_

_You'll sleep till May and you'll_

_Say that you don't wanna see_

_The sun anymore_

When Elliot arrived at work, he sought out Cragen. The Captain evaded like hell, then bluntly told him that Olivia was away. He didn't know where. Elliot made the rounds, questioning Casey, Melinda, Fin, and Munch. Nobody had answers. _Liv wouldn't just leave, right?_ Desperate now, Elliot turned to Huang. _The fibbies? What the hell is she doing running around with the feds?_

_Oh oh how could you do it?_

_Oh I – I never saw it coming_

_Oh oh I need an ending_

_So why can't you stay _

_long enough to explain_

After work, Elliot went to the bar. Nursing a beer, he brooded over the situation. "_You and this job are about the only things I've got anymore. I don't want to wreck that."_ He snorted. In trying to protect both his job and his relationship with Liv, he'd fucked both over six ways from Sunday. Not only was Elliot miserable at work, but also he didn't have a clue where his partner was or how she was doing. Damn it.

_Take these chances to turn it around_

_Yeah take these chances and make it somehow_

_Take these chances to turn it around_

_Just turn it around_

Elliot was well on his way to drunk. Maybe this separation was a good thing. Maybe Liv would come to her senses. _And maybe pigs will fly._ She'd be back soon, bitching about how she'd left the lights on and come home to a huge electric bill. _Maybe I should check for her._ Elliot slapped some bills onto the counter and hailed a taxi. _Sir Elliot to the rescue…again. _He smirked as the taxi pulled up at Liv's building. _See that? She's not even here and I'm still takin' care of her._ One of Olivia's neighbors held the door for him. Apparently even they didn't know about her absence.

Elliot fumbled with his key ring, found the right key, and put it to the lock. It wouldn't fit. _Strange._ He double-checked the key and tried again. And again, just to be sure. _She fucking changed the locks. I can't get in anymore._ The realization sobered him, sent a chill down his spine. Morose, he wandered out of the building and waited for a taxi. It took him several minutes to feel the tears in his eyes.

_Oh oh how could you do it?_

_Oh I – I never saw it coming_

_Oh oh I need an ending_

_So why can't you stay _

_long enough to explain_


	2. Brighter

AN: Still learning to live with the whole "not owning 'em" thing. Nor do I have any claim to Paramore. I just need to shrink ten inches, and dye my hair, and learn to sing, and I'd so have it made –smirk-.

_So this is how it goes_

_Well I, I would have never known_

_And if it ends today_

_Well, I'll still say that you shine brighter than anyone_

_I hate Oregon._ Olivia Benson tossed and turned, unable to sleep. It was too quiet here, she missed the sounds of her beloved city. She could tune out taxis, car horns, and loud music. Screech Owls, assorted fauna, and snoring eco-terrorists were another matter. Of course, it didn't help that said eco-terrorists clearly had an aversion to showering as well as deodorant. Olivia grimaced. She was strongly tempted to turn a hose on the lot of them, if it weren't for the hysterical water-conservation lecture that would surely follow. She didn't know what these people did that they would smell so dreadful.

_Elliot always smells good._ The thought came out of left field, accompanied by a lance of pain. If she closed her eyes and focused, she could almost smell him now. Warm, rich, and subtly sexy. _Cold, tinged with fear-sweat and steel, then hot with rage and the metallic tang of blood._ Olivia bolted upright as her breath caught in her chest. The memory of that fucking warehouse had followed her all the way across the damn country. The flashes came out of nowhere. One minute, she would be right in the middle of a throng of protesters. Then, someone would brush against her the wrong way, and she was on the floor of the bus terminal with her life leaking between her fingers. It had been like this back home, too. She'd lock eyes with him during a blistering argument, and be sucked back into her own personal hell. The only solution was to get the heck out of Dodge.

_Now I think we're taking this too far_

_Don't you know that it's not this hard?_

_Well it's not this hard_

_But if you take what's yours and I take mine_

_Must we go there?_

_Please not this time. No, not this time._

Except Olivia was beginning to think Dodge would have been more preferable. She missed her Captain, the father figure she'd waited thirty-odd years to find. She missed Munch, whose caustic wit enlivened her day, and Fin, her laconic and streetwise big brother. Olivia longed for a girls' night with Casey, slamming back drinks after rough cases. More than anything though, she missed Elliot. _That stubborn, chauvinistic jackass._ How could he possibly have expected her to risk killing him? He might as well have requested that she tear her own guts out. With a dull spoon. He might have been able to do it if their roles had been reversed. He might have been able to survive her death, she didn't know. But she did know that she could never survive his.

Didn't he see that they needed each other? Olivia gave everything she had to every victim, but it was Elliot who made sure that she had something to give. Elliot kept her both sane and alive during the Plummer case, and she shot to his defense every time IAB came calling. They were partners in the purest sense of the word, with a thread of something that a very small, selfish part of Liv considered _potential for more._

_Well this is not your fault_

_But if I'm without you_

_Then I will feel so small_

_And if you have to go_

_Always know that you shine brighter_

_Than anyone does_

A particularly loud snore – her mind identified it as T-Bone's – derailed her increasingly moody train of thought. Olivia began to count her blessings. There was the tea. She hadn't been so decaffeinated in years. There was…no, the tea was about it. And she would trade every gallon of organic green tea in the world if it would fix things at SVU. When this case was over, she'd start strapping herself to a desk whenever the feds came sniffing. She'd never voluntarily leave the 1-6 or her partner (she refused to stop calling him that) again. If only Elliot would figure it out.

_Now I think we're taking this too far_

_Don't you know that it's not this hard?_

_Well it's not this hard_

_But if you take what's yours and I take mine_

_Must we go there?_

_Please not this time. No, not this time._

Three thousand miles away, Elliot sat with his head in his hands. It had been a bitch of a day, starting with his assessment of his new partner. Dani Beck was not remotely suited for Special Victims. She was too soft, too emotional. _Not like Liv._ The thought intrigued him. True, Liv was emotional. Her empathy was astonishing, her commitment to each vic was boundless. If her life had not been what it was, he could see her as being another Beck. Instead, life had molded her, made her tougher, harder. If a case shattered her, he knew she could put herself back together. Furthermore, she could outmaneuver Beck in the interrogation room with her tongue tied. Elliot could always rely on her to bail both his ass and hers out of trouble. Almost always.

_If you run away now_

_Will you come back around?_

_And if you ran away_

_I'd still wave goodbye_

_Watching you shine bright_

_And that very almost is why I'm sitting here brooding and she's off playing with the feds._ Elliot thought bitterly. He kept picturing Liv in some luxe spot conducting interrogations over espressos in rooms with cushy chairs. He held on to this image, as the alternative scenarios were those of his nightmares. She'd gone and shut him completely out of her life, which hurt more than it should. It was his fault, after all. Watching her fall, clutching her neck, had scared him badly. He'd been so sure that she was dying. Afterward, he'd been heartsick over the boy, lashing out at Olivia, blaming her for placing him in such a position. _I've been such a damn jackass._ Elliot jumped to his feet, disgusted with himself. One hand stole into his pocket and drew out a set of keys. He held them up for a moment, fist clenched so tightly that the metal cut into his palm. Swearing, he stormed out of his apartment without bothering to grab his jacket.

_Now I think we're taking this too far_

_Don't you know that it's not this hard?_

_Well it's not this hard_

_But if you take what's yours and I take mine_

_Must we go there?_

_Please not this time. No, not this time._

Five minutes later, his cell phone rang, echoing in the empty room. After three forlorn rings, it fell silent. Three thousand miles away, Olivia Benson hung up. She turned to the window, that no early-morning riser might see her tears.


	3. That's What You Get

AN: First off, thank you so much for your reviews!! Glad to know that there are other Paramore fans out there! This is my first fanfic, so your feedback is much appreciated!

And before I forget….still don't own em, and apparently trying to pass yourself off as Hayley Williams is a felony. Oops 

_No sir, well I don't wanna be the blame, not anymore It's your turn, so take a seat we're settling the final score_

_And why do we like to hurt so much?_

_I can't decide_

_You have made it harder just to go on_

_Why? All the possibilities… well, I was wrong_

Olivia Benson stumbled to her apartment, swearing as she fumbled with the unfamiliar keys. _Damn the Feds._ All she wanted was a hot bath and a cold drink, and they were still screwing with her plans. Her mood worsened as she took in her dark and dusty apartment. Why the hell had she thought taking this assignment was a good idea?

_Because of a certain blue-eyed pain in the ass,_ her inner voice responded. Because of Elliot, who'd driven her away with his moods. Because of Elliot, she'd lived with complete strangers, and very strange, smelly strangers at that. Because of Elliot, she'd nearly been brained by that jackass deputy. And that was just for starters.

For every detective, there is The Case. The one you risked absolutely everything for, the one that took a piece of your soul with every day it went unsolved. As an SVU detective, Olivia ran across more atrocious crimes than most. However, this last one had been especially disturbing. It was even more disturbing when Olivia realized that her primary coping mechanism was across the country and hardly likely to answer her calls.

_That's what you get when you let your heart win – whoa_

_That's what you get when you let your heart win – whoa_

_Drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating_

_That's what you get when you let your heart win - whoa_

Deciding she was too tired to be rational, Olivia threw her duffle onto her bed and made a beeline for the tub. Halfway there, she hurried back to the duffle, rummaged around, and withdrew a bottle of wine and a card. _Olivia, congrats on solving the case. Interested in a celebratory dinner? – Dean 555-1978. _Olivia smiled as she padded back to the tub, bottle and glass in hand. She sank into the suds and saw no reason to hold back a moan of bliss. Minutes later, she was asleep.

_I wonder…how am I supposed to feel when you're not here_

_Cause I burned every bridge I ever built when you were here_

_I still try holding onto silly things I never learn_

_Oh why? …all the possibilities, I'm sure you've heard_

_Something's up._ Elliot Stabler's nerves – what his son Dickie used to call his "Spidey Senses" were tingling. Huang had just entered the squadroom, accompanied by a man in a suit, tie, and shades. _Gee, it's FBI Ken._ Elliot stopped pretending to do his paperwork and watched as Huang and the fibbie made an oh-so-casual beeline for Cragen's office. It took less than a minute for Cragen to step out of his office and bestow his patented "nothing to see here" glare. His gaze met Elliot's, and the Captain's eyes narrowed. Elliot returned fire with his equally potent innocent look. Cragen prudently withdrew, snapping his office blinds shut.

Elliot seized the moment, grabbing his jacket and heading for the exit. If anyone asked he was just taking his lunch break. At three o'clock in the afternoon. He could deal with the Captain's wrath after he'd dealt with Liv's. Why else would the feds come to the 1-6, if not to tell them Olivia was back? As he walked, he kept one hand in his jacket pocket, rubbing a useless set of keys. He couldn't wait for Liv to return to duty and for Beck – thank God she had an appointment today – to leave. Fin would stop giving him death-glares from across the squad room; Munch would leave the coffee machine the hell alone. Most importantly, they would sort their relationship out, put it back to rights. They'd be partners again, just not the same way they'd been before.

Elliot felt optimistic as he knocked on Liv's door. That optimism faded after fifteen minutes. If she was back, she was still pissed at him, which did not bode well. He gave a few more half-hearted knocks before he finally thought to try her cell. As he dialed her number, his own phone began to shrill. Elliot answered the phone; hoping to hear his partner's mellow voice. The voice on the other end of the line was male, authoritative, and far from mellow – his Captain. The chewing-out lasted all the way back to the 1-6.

_That's what you get when you let your heart win_

_That's what you get when you let your heart win_

_Drowned out all my sense with the sound of its beating_

_That's what you get when you let your heart win_

Olivia awoke with a start, convinced that someone was in her apartment. She climbed out of the tub, grabbed a robe, and hurried to the door. No one was there. She bit her lip in frustration, she could have sworn… With a sigh, Liv finished her glass of wine and picked up the phone.

"Hi Dean, this is Olivia. Just calling to say thanks for the wine and if you're free tomorrow night…"

_Pain make your way to me – to me_

_And I'll always be just so inviting_

_If I ever start to think straight_

_This heart will start a riot in me_

_Why do we like to hurt so much?_

_That's what you get when you let your heart win_


End file.
